


The world will always be there (and so will I)

by justhockey



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Buck Has Bad Parents, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Evan "Buck" Buckley Needs A Hug, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Insecure Evan "Buck" Buckley, Loneliness, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Protective Eddie Diaz, Self-Esteem Issues, Sibling Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:15:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24208792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justhockey/pseuds/justhockey
Summary: “There have been way too many times when you needed me and I wasn’t there for you, so I’m not going now. Even if we sit in silence, I’m not going anywhere, Buck.”
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Maddie Buckley, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 48
Kudos: 900





	The world will always be there (and so will I)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from _So Will I_ by Ben Platt.

Sometimes Buck gets stuck in his head. It’s like a constant stream of bad thoughts and what ifs and fears, and he just can’t escape them. And he knows he has people who love him, has Maddie and his family at the firehouse, but sometimes he forgets. He forgets that he has people in his life who depend on him and want him around. And once he’s stuck in that place, that loop of negativity, it’s hard for him to find his way back out. 

He becomes withdrawn. He knows it’s an unhealthy coping mechanism, knows it not a coping mechanism at all, really. But he just can’t seem to help it. Once he’s stuck in his head, all he can think about is how much trouble he brings to people’s lives, and every single time he figures that the best way to deal with it is to pull back. It hurts less when he’s the one to do the distancing, rather than being on the other end of it when people get tired of him. 

And it’s not like it was even something big that set it off, really. He just saw someone at the store who looked like an awful lot like his dad, and suddenly he couldn’t breathe. He’d left the half-full cart in the middle of the aisle and fled, barely containing his panic until he’d made it home. 

Then, behind closed doors, he broke. All he could see was his old man’s face, feel his backhand across Buck’s cheek, hear the cruel, degrading, agonising words he used to spit out, washing over him like the tsunami had all those months ago. And it feels pathetic, really. That it’s been so many years since he left home, since he left his father behind, and yet all it takes is a glimpse of someone who looks like him to suffocate Buck all over again. 

It’s true when they say that if you hear something enough times, you start to believe it. Because by the time Buck was ten he knew to keep out of sight, and to keep his mouth shut because he had nothing worth saying anyway. So when he sees that man, when he escapes the store with lungs that feel like fire because of his inability to breathe, Buck regresses. 

He pulls away almost instantly. 

The team are going out for drinks and Buck declines. Or it’s movie night with Maddie and he has to take a rain check. Or Eddie invites him to the park with Christopher, but he says that he’s busy. 

And, yeah. That one is the hardest, really. Because Eddie and Christopher they’re. God. They’re just, like, everything to Buck? Of course Maddie is his family, but it’s different with Eddie and Christopher. 

He knows Maddie loves him, but sometimes it feels like she’s just around because she’s blood and she has to be. Or maybe she feels so guilty for leaving him behind twice already, that she thinks she’s required to stick around. It’s never felt like that with Eddie though, like Buck is some kind of obligation. So it’s harder to back away from them. 

But he does it anyway. Because even though they never make him feel like a burden, Buck is far too self aware to not realise that that’s definitely what he is. And, fuck, is he a mess. He’s needy and dependent, and he’s too much just, all the damn time. He knows that. He’s spent his whole life being told so. And he just. He doesn’t want to become so annoying to them that they push him out. 

He can handle once a week with them, ok? That’s probably normal anyway, for most friendships. And yeah, he and Eddie and Christopher have something special, something deeper than friendship, on like a cosmic level, or whatever (and he’s also probably, definitely in love with Eddie). But Buck isn’t dumb enough to think that it’s permanent. It’ll all go away the second they think that he’s become too much. 

And every time he finds himself about to agree to drinks with Hen or an evening with Maddie or paint-balling with Eddie now that Chris is at summer camp, he hears his father’s voice. Hears him telling Buck how useless he is, how no one wants him around, how he’s just a waste of time and space. 

It becomes easier to pull back, after that. 

He knows he shouldn’t, knows it’s unhealthy and an objectively _terrible_ idea, but he can’t help it. It’s never a choice, really. Just instinct. Self-preservation, or whatever. Buck is just so tired of getting hurt. The irony isn’t lost on him that this time he’s hurting himself, but. It’s kind of out of his control. 

Of course, his team, his _family,_ notice. They do love him. Buck, like. He _knows_ that, okay? Logically, he does. It’s just, in his heart it doesn’t always feel like that. But they care. And they notice. 

They give him space, though. Which, you know, makes sense for most people. Generally when people pull away it’s because that’s what they need. Buck is just different, though. Because it’s not a conscious decision, he isn’t testing them, or anything ridiculous like that, but. In the back corners of his mind where all the things he doesn’t like to think about live, he knows that he pulls hoping that people will push back. 

They never do. 

“Buckaroo!” Hen calls out as she enters the locker room. 

It’s been a long, painstaking shift, with calls coming in almost constantly. Apparently the heat makes people crazy, or something. And god, the _heat._ It’s obviously not Buck’s first summer in Los Angeles, but it’s definitely the hottest he’s ever experienced. The sun is blistering, the humidity is high, and everything feels sticky and muggy and _ugh._

(He spares a quick moment to think about Christopher, just coming to the end of his first week at summer camp. He hopes the camp counsellors are keeping him hydrated and putting his sun block on properly.)

“Henrietta!” He replies.

He’s tugging off his t-shirt as he does so, and his reply is kind of muffled, but he might actually die if he has to keep it on for a second longer. It’s soaked in sweat and smells of cow manure - don’t even _ask._

“Are you coming tomorrow?” She asks. 

And Buck knows what tomorrow is, but he plays dumb anyway. 

“Uh, where?” He asks as he searches through his bag for a clean t-shirt. 

She means the barbecue Bobby and Athena are hosting, obviously. Like the entire firehouse hasn’t been talking about it for the last two weeks. 

The glare she gives him comes second only to Athena, and he opens his mouth to reply just as Eddie walks in. 

“Yeah, I don’t think I’m gonna make it,” Buck says, suddenly quieter. 

He doesn’t want it to be a _thing._ He doesn’t want Hen or Eddie worrying about him, or whatever. He’s just pretty certain he can’t handle being around everyone right now. He’s still feeling fragile from seeing the man who looked too much like his dad, and it doesn’t help that it was his moms birthday yesterday, as well. 

“Wait, what?” Eddie chimes in, a pinched frown on his face. 

Eddie is used to Texan heat so he’s barely even sweating, which, rude. And he still looks unfairly good after such an insane shift. Buck isn’t jealous, he just kind of wants to kiss him. No big deal. 

“Buck,” Hen sighs, dragging out his name. 

He smiles sheepishly and pulls on a clean t-shirt to avoid looking at either of them. Unfortunately, they’re still watching him once he’s fully dressed. 

“I just can’t make it,” he lies. 

He’s always been a terrible liar. 

Hen rolls her eyes so far back into her head Buck is momentarily worried they’re actually going to get stuck there, and Eddie just shoves him in the shoulder. Hard. 

“ _Ow,_ ” he complains, bringing his hand up to rub where Eddie had hit him. 

“Stop avoiding the question,” Eddie says. 

“Technically you didn’t ask me anything,” Buck says, just to be pedantic. 

Eddie raises his hand again and Buck steps back instinctively, to avoid the second shove he knows Eddie is aiming for. 

“Buck, you do understand that this Athena you’re saying no to, right?” Hen asks.

She’s giving Buck a look that says he’s lost his damn mind, and honestly, she’s probably not wrong. He just _can’t._ He doesn’t want to be around happy families while he’s feeling so alone. 

“She’ll forgive me, even Athena can’t resist my charm,” Buck jokes.

He’s grinning at them, and it feels kind of off but Hen rolls her eyes anyway, and this time it’s fondly. Eddie is just looking at Buck, wearing an expression he can’t decipher, and he’s too tired to bother trying. 

“You sure baby?” Hen asks, more softly this time. 

Buck melts a little, with the way she’s looking at him. And he wants to cave and say _yes, yes of course, there’s nowhere else I want to be,_ but he can’t. He’d just be miserable and bring the mood down, and he doesn’t need to give anyone an excuse to be mad at him. 

“I’m sure,” he says to Hen, then, “I’ll catch the next one, when superman is back in town,” to Eddie. 

And neither of them argue with Buck, and he almost manages to convince himself that that’s what he wanted as he drives home. 

He plans to shower as soon as he steps through the door, then nap for like, at least three hours. But those plans are instantly put on hold when he enters his apartment and Maddie is sitting at the island counter, watching him with a determined look on her face. 

“Uh, hi?” He says, dropping his bag by the door. “Is everything okay?”

Her face shifts slightly when he asks that, and she reaches out a hand, beckoning for Buck to come sit beside her. 

“Everything is fine, how was work?”

“Long,” he says, then, “If everything is fine why are you using the emergency key that I gave you _for emergencies?_ ”

She rolls her eyes as he sits down on the bar stool next to her. He feels on edge, because Maddie doesn’t ever show up without calling first. The last time she did, she’d been running away from Doug. 

“It _is_ an emergency,” she insists, causing Buck’s hear rate to spike instantly. 

“What? What do you mean? What’s-“

“A _you_ emergency,” Maddie says, interrupting Buck’s panicked babble. 

Oh. Well, that’s better than a Maddie emergency, for sure, but still not all together ideal. He’s exhausted and sweaty and he just wants to take a shower and sleep, but the look on Maddie face tells him that’s absolutely not going to happen until they talk. Buck sighs in defeat. 

“Can I at least shower first?”

“Ten minutes,” she offers him. 

And true to his word, he’s seated back beside her ten minutes later, freshly showered with a cup of coffee between his hands. 

He knows what she’s going to say before she even opens her mouth. 

“I was talking to Chimney,” Buck rolls his eyes and she swats at his arm, “and he’s worried about you.”

Buck knew it. 

“I’m fine,” Buck says, smiling. 

Maddie gives him the look, you know, the one she perfected back when they were kids that says _‘don’t you dare lie to me Evan Buckley’_ , and he doesn’t stand a chance against that. He sighs, runs a hand through his still wet hair, and waits for Maddie to continue. 

“I know that you’re not. We’ve all noticed, and I think you need to tell me what’s going on.”

Buck really doesn’t want to. It’s stupid and immature and childish, and he doesn’t need to hear her tell him that. He knows he’ll get over it soon, and then he’ll be back to being the Buck they all know and tolerate. He just needs a little time. 

“Maddie, seriously, I’m-“

“If you say _fine_ I’m gonna throw this coffee over you,” she threatens, waving the cup in his face pointedly. 

He sighs. Opens his mouth and closes it what feels like a million times, trying to find the right words to say and coming up short every time. Maddie has her own life, and she’s been through way more than Buck has, he just doesn’t want to burden her with dumb stuff he’s been holding on to since he was a kid. 

“Evan, why-“

“Because it was mom’s birthday yesterday, and I saw a guy the other day who looked just like dad, and I’m just, too much,” Buck rambles. 

He knows that it wouldn’t make sense to most people, that it would just seem like a random sequence of events that are in no way connected. But Maddie isn’t most people, she’s his sister. And the sad look that passes over her face tells Buck that she gets it. 

“ _Buck_ ,” she whispers, placing her hand over his. “The team, _me,_ we’re not mom and dad. We’re not Abby.”

And he knows that. He knows not everyone is going to leave him, and he knows that he didn’t deserve the way his parents treated him, because his therapist told him so and Frank is a pretty smart guy. But knowing it and really, truly _believing_ it are two entirely separate things. 

“I know, Mads. I just. Sometimes, when I talk, it’s like I can actually _feel_ them getting bored of me, y’know? And I just love them all _so much_ , but I know it’s not the same for them,” Buck confesses. 

He’s vulnerable and exposed, and he has to take a breath and remind himself that this is just Maddie. His big sister. She’ll love him no matter what. 

“Evan, you love us with _every_ part of you. Your heart is so special, it’s my favourite thing about you,” Maddie says.

She pauses to brush back a loose curl that had fallen into his eyes, then continues. 

“But it’s _because_ you love us so entirely, that sometimes we don’t always know how to love you back in the right way. And it’s not that we _don’t_ love you, it’s just that every way of showing it falls so flat compared to how you show us.”

Buck isn’t sure how to feel or what he’s supposed to say. His heart is beating oddly fast for some reason, and he can feel tears prickling in the backs of his eyes. He squeezes Maddie’s hand tightly and takes a deep breath. 

“We _love_ you Buck, you just show it better than us,” Maddie says. 

Her eyes are swimming, too, when she looks at him, and she gives him a watery smile that he can’t help but return. His heart feels a little lighter now, like maybe he understands a bit better. Not all the way, he’s not certain that it’s the case for everyone else, but when he looks into his sister’s eyes he knows she’s telling the truth. 

“And Eddie could _never_ get bored of you.”

“It’s not- I mean- it’s not just about him,” Buck stutters. 

And it’s _not_ , not really. It’s just that Eddie is a pretty huge part of it. And if Hen and Chim and even Bobby were to push him out of their life, he could probably survive that, just about. But if he was ousted from Eddie and Christopher’s life, Buck knows he wouldn’t survive that. He thinks he’d maybe die on the spot, and he’s not even being dramatic for once. 

Buck knows he’s blushing when Maddie leans over and knocks her shoulder against his, but doesn’t say anything. 

He appreciates her not teasing him, because it’s hard enough that he feels this way for Eddie, without someone trying to make a big deal out of it. It’s suffocating, sometimes, living with this all-encompassing love for Eddie and Christopher, when he can do absolutely nothing about, except be there for them whenever they need him. 

And it’s enough. He’s happy to be in their lives in whatever capacity they allow him to be. It just sucks, sometimes, that when he’s at Eddie’s house washing the dishes with him, he finds himself wanting that for, like, ever. 

Maddie doesn’t stay much longer after that, mainly because Buck all but begs to her leave so he can take a freaking nap, for gods sake. She offers to make him some food before she goes, but they both know Buck is the better cook and all he has to do is raise his eyebrows at her before she concedes, leaving only once he’s promised to text her after his nap. 

As soon as he’s alone though, the lightness that had seemed to settle over him grows heavy again. He hates that about himself, how it feels like unless his relationships are actively being validated then they clearly don’t exist and no one cares about him. 

It’s dumb, and again, he _knows_ it’s not true. He’s working on it, ok? But these things take time. And Buck has been breaking for so long that the idea of feeling whole is so foreign to him. 

He makes himself a sandwich, because he still needs to eat even when his insides are feeling all weird and squishy. And he pointedly ignores the fact that he has no new messages on his phone. 

Buck naps on and off for a few hours, but his thoughts are still racing and his apartment is still too hot, even with the AC on. He gets up a little before dinner, figuring he can throw himself together something to eat and then waste the rest of the night watching Netflix until it’s an appropriate time to go to sleep. 

He shoots Maddie a text so she doesn’t panic, and then starts rifling through his cupboards trying to find something he can cook. 

He’s _just_ plating up his chicken carbonara when there’s a knock at the door. He can’t help but groan, because of fucking _course_ he gets visitors right as he’s about to eat. 

He’s embarrassed at the way his heart literally skips a beat when he opens the door and Eddie is standing there. He’s wearing a grey t-shirt that’s stretched thin, and the LAFD lettering is faded. He looks uncharacteristically soft, standing at the door, and Buck’s stomach twists. 

“Hey?”

“Hey man, can I come in?

And of course he can, because Buck is never going to say no to Eddie. Except he really wants to eat and be alone right now, just mope around in his sadness for a while so the sooner he gets it out of his system, the sooner he can get back to normal. 

“Oh, yeah, I mean I was just about to eat,” Buck says, but he holds the door open anyways. 

Eddie at least has the mind to look guilty, as he brushes past Buck and into the apartment. He sits down right where Maddie had been sitting earlier, then sets his eyes on Buck. 

He doesn’t have a clue why Eddie’s there, but clearly Eddie isn’t talking just yet, and he doesn’t want his food to get cold. So. 

“You want some?” He asks as he twirls the pasta onto his fork. 

Eddie leans over the counter to see what Buck’s eating, then grins. Of course Eddie wants some, he’s a sucker for Buck’s cooking. Or, really, any cooking that isn’t frozen chicken nuggets, which is all Chris is currently eating these days. 

Buck had cooked enough for two because he was planning on saving some for tomorrow, but he scoops it out onto a plate for Eddie instead, and hands it over to him wordlessly. 

They eat more or less in silence. And it’s not awkward, exactly. But it’s also not the same level of comfort they usually share, either. Buck isn’t sure what Eddie wants, but it’s clearly _something_ if the way he’s bouncing his leg up and down is anything to go by. 

When they’ve both finished and Buck has loaded their plates into the dishwasher, he leans back against the counter and folds his arms across his chest. He looks at Eddie, and Eddie looks right back, and it feels like something unspoken is hovering between them, except Buck has no clue what it is. He waits though. He can be patient when he has to be. 

“So, I spoke to Maddie,” Eddie eventually says. 

That isn’t what Buck was expecting. He tilts his head to the side even though everyone always says he looks like a golden retriever when he does that. 

“My Maddie?” Buck clarifies. 

“Do we know any other Maddie’s?” Eddie asks, and Buck shrugs in response. “Yes, your Maddie.”

He already doesn’t like where this is going, can sense the impending disaster from a mile off (after surviving so many it’s like he’s got a sixth sense when it comes to them, like spidey-senses without the superpowers, or something). He bites anyway. 

“Ok, why?”

“Because you’re being weird and I don’t like it.”

Ok. So. They’re doing this then, and clearly Eddie is done beating around the bush. 

“I’m not,” Buck lies. 

He is. He _absolutely_ is, and they both know it. But Buck likes to be contrary, and he _doesn’t_ like talking about his feelings, especially with the person who a pitiful amount of said feelings revolve around. But Eddie isn’t budging, because he’s a stubborn fucker just like Buck is. 

“You are, so like I said, I talked to Maddie,” Eddie says. 

And god, he _really_ doesn’t like where this is going. Because Maddie would never do something to purposely hurt Buck, but she also doesn’t know how little he’s told the firehouse about their parents, about their lives growing up, about what made Buck 1.0 come into being. So it’s highly possible that she’s spilled far more than Buck ever wanted them to know. 

And it’s not that he doesn’t trust them, he literally trusts them with his life every single day. It’s just that he’s an adult now _(yes, Chim, an adult)_ and he doesn’t want to burden his team with his stupid, childish bullshit, when they have real lives and real problems that they have to take care of. Buck’s have always seemed so trivial in comparison. 

(Also he’s kind of terrified that if they find out how much even his own _parents_ didn’t want him around, they’ll finally see that he’s not worth keeping.) 

“She told me about your parents,” Eddie explains. 

Buck flinches. He’s so afraid that now Eddie will see him the way his parents saw him, the way he still sees himself, and he’ll figure out that Buck just isn’t worth the hassle. 

“Not everything. She said that was up to you. But you know, she told me they were shitty. Made you feel bad about yourself.”

Buck actually snorts at that, because it’s basically the understatement of the fucking century. Every single one of Buck’s issues stem from his parents. From a dad who’s words were just as vicious as his fists, a mom who didn’t care enough to do anything about it. 

He doesn’t want to talk about this. 

“Buck, you know that we want you around, right? The team, and Christopher, and _me,_ ” Eddie says, his voice soft. 

And nope. No. He can’t do this. He can’t sit here while Eddie feels sorry for him and tries to reassure him. That shouldn’t have to be his job, to make pathetic little Evan feel better. It’s glaringly obvious from the look on his face that Eddie would rather be absolutely _anywhere_ else, so Buck decides to make it easier for him. 

“Just leave, please.”

At least Eddie can go away knowing he’s tried, at least he doesn’t have to feel guilty. 

“What?” Eddie asks, sounding hurt right down to his core. 

Because Buck has never, ever asked Eddie to leave before. Normally it’s all he can do not to beg Eddie to _stay_. 

“I asked you to leave,” Buck says, trying and failing to keep his voice steady. 

_Stay, stay. Please don’t leave me._

“Buck-“

“Eddie, just fucking _go_!”

And he doesn’t meant to snap at him, he really, really doesn’t. It’s the last thing in the world Eddie deserves, especially when he’s checking up on Buck even when he doesn’t have to. But Buck just can’t help himself. 

This all feels so raw and too real. He feels exposed, helpless, weak. He doesn’t need anyone, least of all _Eddie_ , looking at all the broken parts of him. He’ll just decide Buck is simply more trouble than he’s worth. 

“No.”

Eddie’s voice is calm, and steady, and it fucking floors Buck for a second. He expected him to get mad, to get in Buck’s face and yell, or storm out and slam the door, _something._ Not just stand there and refuse, somehow firm and gentle at the same time. 

“What?” Buck manages to stammer out. 

He’s lost for words. Eddie is doing the thing Buck’s always wanted, he’s pushing. And it’s the opposite of what Buck wants now, except for how it isn’t, and Buck is feeling shaky and desperate, and he doesn’t know what to do. 

“There have been way too many times when you needed me and I wasn’t there for you, so I’m not going now. Even if we sit in silence, I’m not going anywhere, Buck.”

Eddie is looking him straight in the eye, and Buck knows that he believes every word of what he’s saying. 

He also knows that Eddie is referring to the lawsuit. That should be over, and it is, but _you’re exhausting_ still plays on a loop in Buck’s head, and it feels oddly validating, in the midst of everything, that Eddie knows Buck needed him then. It feels cathartic, almost. 

“Eddie-“

“No. I get that _this,_ ” he gestures wildly around the room, “is what you do when you’re hurting or feeling insecure, I get that you pull away to protect yourself. But from now on, every time you pull away, I’m gonna be here to push right back.” 

Buck feels so incredibly, entirely _seen_ in that moment. That Eddie has figured that out about him, and that he’s willing to stick around anyway, it feels enormous. Seismic. That Eddie sees him, and his dreadful coping mechanisms, and that he still wants to be around Buck. 

Buck starts to cry. 

And Eddie is just full of surprises today, because in no time at all his arms are wrapped so tightly around Buck that he can’t breathe in the best way possible. He wants to live inside of Eddie’s arms, stay here where all the world and his parents can’t touch him. It feels possible, too, as Eddie rubs circles on his back and presses his lips into Buck’s hair. 

“I’m sorry,” Buck says, and his voice is rough and crackly. 

Eddie holds him tighter. 

“I just get so _scared_ that one day you’ll decide you’ve had enough of me and my bullshit, and you just won’t want me around anymore,” Buck confesses. 

It still feels like he’s being weak, but not as much with Eddie holding him. And it feels like a heaviness lifts from his chest as the words tumble from his lips, like Eddie is helping him carry that burden now. Like he doesn’t have to bear it alone. 

Eddie pulls back, and for a terrifying moment Buck thinks he’s gone too far, said too much. But then Eddie’s hands are cupping his face and he’s forcing Buck to look at him. 

“I love you,” Eddie says. 

It knocks the air from Buck’s lungs, makes his entire body tremble, tilts the whole fucking world on its axis, but Eddie keeps going. 

“I love you, Evan. And I don’t know if you feel the same, but right now I need you to hear me. _I love you._ There is nothing you could ever say or do to make me stop wanting you around. I love you, Christopher loves you. You’re our family, and whether you like it or not, that means you’re stuck with us.”

Eddie says it like it’s so obvious, like there’s no universe in which the words aren’t true. Eddie loves him. And Buck breathes deeply. And he feels it right down to his bones. 

He doesn’t know if he replies, or if he just sobs, but then his lips are on Eddie’s, and it’s wet and they’re both crying, but they’re kissing. They’re _kissing,_ and Eddie _wants_ him, and Buck might have thought it was a dream if not for the way Eddie holds him so tightly it almost hurts. 

And it’s hours later, when they’re curled up together in Buck’s bed, that he finally says it back. 

“I love you, too,” Buck whispers against Eddie’s neck. 

It’s not that there was ever any doubt, because Buck has been gone for Eddie since _’you’re badass under pressure, brother’,_ and he’s never looked back. It’s just that being open is scary for Buck, and it’s hard to be honest about his feelings sometimes. But Eddie just kisses his forehead, as patient and understanding as Buck is starting to believe he deserves. 

“Im gonna forget, y’know, that you really want me around. I’m sorry. I know that it’s exhausting to keep reminding me,” Buck says. 

He doesn’t want to ruin the moment, but it’s something he feels like he needs to say. They’ve talked a lot, cleared up a lot of things that had gone unsaid for far too long, but Buck needs Eddie to know that he’s still going to struggle sometimes. That he’s needy and craves validation way more than is healthy for someone his age. 

Eddie raises the arm that isn’t wrapped around his shoulders, and tilts Buck’s chin so he’s looking up at Eddie. 

“Nothing about you is exhausting,” Eddie says. “I’ll tell you every single day, ten times a day, if it’s what you need to hear. I love you. I’m not going anywhere.” 

And Eddie stays the night, lets Buck wrap around him like an octopus and doesn’t complain even once. 

Then the next day, after begging, and threats of blackmail, and probably a sickening number of kisses, Eddie finally gets Buck to go to Bobby and Athena’s barbecue. 

When they walk into the back yard, hands clasped tightly between them, no one says a word. Hen and Karen smile brightly and Bobby and Athena look like proud parents, and ok, Maddie has to step on Chim’s foot to make him keep his mouth shut, but. It feels as easy as breathing, to hold Eddie’s hand, and to kiss him, and to laugh with his family. 

And then they go home.

And Christopher comes back from camp. 

And the days pass. 

And Eddie stays.

**Author's Note:**

> The fic in which I use Evan Buckley as an outlet for my personal insecurities :)


End file.
